


Beyond the Red Door

by Mrs_Stiltskin (Lady_Belles_Teacup)



Series: The Gingerbread Verse [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Belles_Teacup/pseuds/Mrs_Stiltskin
Summary: @beastlycheese it is I, your truant Santa, here to humbly beg forgiveness for being so late with this. I absolutely adored this prompt, and wanted to write another ten thousand words about it! Hopefully, I can take this one a little further in some follow ups... if my lovely Rumbellers are so interested. Beastlycheese and RSS, thank you for being kind and patient while I worked through my unforseen issues, but I do hope you enjoy this little offering. I hope it was worth the wait! Merry Belated Rumbellemas!Prompt: The Bookshop’s Mystery DoorA/N: I hope you all enjoy this little... mashup. I think most will recognize our rather interesting little bookshop’s cherubic proprietor. :) This is also a continuation of my Gingerbread verse.
Relationships: Belle & Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, RumBelle
Series: The Gingerbread Verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1246664
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Beyond the Red Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beastlycheese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlycheese/gifts).



Rumplestiltskin sat in the Great Hall, his spinning wheel whirring rhythmically beneath his nimble fingers. His thoughts, normally soothed by the repetitive motions and muscle memory of spinning, were instead turning as fast as the great wheel itself - flitting through his head, twirling and swirling like the snow that had begun piling into voluminous heaps on the window ledge. Soft candle light, reflected warmly by the garlands of gold and deep red that draped the sills and frames of every window, made the gathering powder glow like fire beyond the leaded glass. 

He watched the fairy lights twinkle in the boughs of the enormous fir that held pride of place next to the hearth, and considered his dilemma. Belle. It was Yule and he had no idea what to get his little maid as a gift. Well, she wasn’t exactly his little maid anymore, was she? The Dark One closed his eyes, letting the golden thread slide between his fingers as he contemplated the current state of their relationship. No, her dusting and sweeping days were behind her. These days she brightened his castle with her effervescent smiles and her bold laughter, she teased and tormented him with her beauty and her voracious, insatiable appetite… for him.

Since consummating their simmering desires only weeks ago, he’d discovered just how delightful and wicked she could be. Belle sought him out at all hours, seducing him away from his important work -- not that he was complaining -- to satisfy her deliciously naughty curiosity about the nature of all things carnal. He knew her sheltered life had led her to engage in harmless voyeurism and her own explorations, and he was more than happy to oblige her every curious thought about the many ways two people of like mind could find pleasure in one another. 

Soon, an idea began to percolate in Rumplestiltskin’s devious mind. At first, it seemed too scandalous to contemplate, but the more he considered it -- the more he considered  _ her _ and her singular nature -- the more he realized his own cleverness. The thought of her blue eyes widened in shock before darkening with desire, the round ‘o’ of her delicate mouth opened in surprise before curving into a coy grin, and the flush of rosy warmth that would most certainly color the alabaster mounds of her perfect decollette decided him. Rumplestiltskin leapt to his feet and practically ran to the glass cabinet at the end of the room. Flinging open the doors, his eyes scanned the shelves, falling on a flawless orb of crystal the size of his closed fist. He snatched it up and hurried to his workroom at the highest turret of the castle.

Smoke swirled within the orb, dissolving into the visage of a man in a black felt top hat and a voluminous purple cravat that was pinned with the head of a silver rabbit. His shockingly blue eyes squinted into the middle distance. “Rumplestiltskin? Is that you?”

“Yes, dearie, it’s me.” He paused for effect. “You owe me a favor, and I wish to collect.”

“How can I help you, Dark One?” The man looked nervous, his eyes darting around as though he were looking for a place to flee. His nose twitched. If there had been a hole nearby, he would certainly have dove headfirst into it. Instead he fiddled with an enormous silver watch that he snatched from the pocket of his waistcoat, the thick silver chain wrapping around his fingers. He held it up for Rumple to see. “Look at the time! If I don’t go soon, I’ll be late for…”

“Don’t worry, dearie, it’s nothing to get your panties in a twist over.” Rumplestiltskin interrupted with a testy bark. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and let out a high-pitched giggle. “I merely seek transportation for two to a certain bookshop, of which I know you are acquainted, in Wonderland. I think you know the one.”

“Oh?” The other man’s brow furrowed for a moment before realization made his eyes widen in shock. “ _ Oh! _ You mean  _ that _ bookshop. You must have quite a deal… wait… transportation for two?”

Rumplestiltskin’s smile turned smug as he rocked back on his heels. His eyebrows waggled. “Two. And I fully expect your complete discretion in this matter, or Grace will have a slimy snail for a father.”

The other man’s face clouded for a moment before he had the presence of mind to force a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He doffed his top hat and made a small bow. “Of course, Dark One. I would never dream of spreading rumours about you.”

Footsteps on the stairs made Rumplestiltskin jump. “Tomorrow. Noon. Don’t be late, or I’ll have a winter rose for my lady,” he hissed before waving his hand over the crystal. It went dark and silent before the top-hatted man could agree, but he wasn’t worried. Jefferson knew the consequences of failure, and would be there on time. 

Belle appeared in the doorway, tea tray in her hands. The warm, spicy scent of gingerbread tickled his nose, making him smile.

“Is it tea time already, sweetheart?”

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Yuletide had dawned clear and bright. The air was crisp and cold, the sun high in a cloudless sky, and glittering snow lay smooth and pristine around the Dark Castle. Belle stood at the windows and looked out over the rose garden that still bloomed in spite of the frigid weather. She sipped her morning tea, and hummed a festive little tune.

Rumple took a long pull of the sweetened black coffee he preferred in the mornings, and set down his chipped cup with a satisfied clink. It was a teacup, but he didn’t care. Belle’s pretty blush every time she saw him drinking from it, made a particular warmth spread through his chest. Rising from the table, he moved to stand behind Belle, wrapping his arms about her waist and pressing kisses to the side of her neck. She sighed happily and leaned into his embrace, absorbing his warmth. Though he kept the castle warm, it was still a castle, and as such it was big and drafty and required two bodies to press together to stay toasty. 

“Will you be working today?” Belle asked. He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her question. 

“Needs must, sweetheart. Needs must. I have business that will take me far, far away from the Dark Castle today.” He answered, tutting. He could see the moue she made in the reflection from the window. Though, to her credit, she said nothing, containing her disappointment and letting it slip away. It was only a day like any other day, and his work was important. He spun her gently to face him, and she schooled her features into a careful smile, angling her face for a kiss, to which he obliged. 

“I see. Well, I guess I will get some reading done then, won’t I?” She pushed away from him and went to the table, setting her own cup down and brushing out her skirts. “The hearth is warm, and the decorations merry…”

He pressed a hand to his chest, looking positively affronted. “Do you not wish to accompany me?” 

Belle whirled to face him, clapping her hands together, her smile incandescent. “Accompany you?”

He inclined his head, attempting to look stern and nearly dissolving into laughter himself as Belle practically vibrated with glee. “Well, only if you like…”

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing tight. “Oh, Rumple, thank you! Thank you!”

“You don’t even know where we’re going!” He admonished darkly. “We could be tracking down and killing a thief today, for all you know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Belle murmured into the side of his neck, before pulling back and giving him a narrow-eyed glare. “Rumple...”

“We’re not… we’re not.”

“Good.” She leaned back in his arms, her fingers teasing through his hair, and gave him an appraising glance. “Where  _ are _ we going?”

“Not telling.”

“Rumple!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I tell you, now would it?” He answered, exasperated, and gave her a coy smile. “Now, quick as a bunny, go change. I believe you’ll find there is a new outfit in your wardrobe.” 

He swatted her backside as she turned to hurry to her rooms to change, and she was laughing merrily as a tall, dark-haired man appeared in the doorway, his top hat clutched in his hands. Rumplestiltskin swaggered up to him, a filthy grin tugged at his lips as he straightened Jefferson’s voluminous cravat.

“You may want to knock before entering the Great Hall these days, dearie.” He cocked his head and met the other man’s startled blue eyes, chucking him under the chin with a black taloned finger. “Unless you want to catch an eyeful.” 

Jefferson grimaced as he imagined the Dark One’s ire upon being interrupted in flagrante delicto with what appeared to be his housekeeper. Surely that offence would result in spending the rest of one’s days as something crawly and slimy. He imagined the sickening, squishy crack of a snail shell beneath a well-heeled boot… or worse. He swallowed hard, and thanked his lucky stars it was only a swat on the bum that he’d barged in on. 

“Duly noted.” Jefferson smiled as warmly as he could manage, spreading his arms wide and making a deferential bow. “You can, of course, depend upon my complete discretion in all of your interests, Dark One.”

“I do hope so,” he answered with a flourish. His attention was immediately arrested by Belle’s reappearance at the doorway. Her dark, auburn tresses were pinned up in a messy, curly mass that brushed the back of her neck and shoulders. Layers of dusty blue tulle swept around her calves, revealing shoes that lifted her petite frame on thin, spiked heels. There were no sleeves, and her decollette was on prominent display. Rumplestiltskin’s mouth went dry when she took a step to reveal a long slit in the skirt that exposed one pale, creamy thigh as she moved.

She looked doubtful.

“The dress is lovely, though I feel a bit exposed for winter,” Belle expressed doubtfully. “And I’ve never left the castle with so much… on display.” Her eyes were wide as she swept the skirt aside to reveal one long, shapely leg, her foot delicate in the sparkling, strappy heel. She turned it this way and that, admiring the sparkle while Rumple admired the view.

Jefferson coughed, and Belle jumped, pulling the skirt closed with her hand and standing up straight. Rumple’s high-pitched giggle filled the room. 

“Belle, this is Jefferson Milliner. He is our contracted transportation for the day. Jefferson… Belle, my travelling companion.” Belle curtseyed and offered her hand, which he took, bowing at the waist and bending to press his forehead to her hand.

“My Lady.”

“Sir.”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Rumplestiltskin offered, taking her hand from Jefferson and pulling her close. “Where we are going, the weather is quite different, as are the conventions of dress and decorum! Shall we?”

Jefferson set down his felted top hat and set it spinning. Soon, it was a blur of motion in the center of the room. A purple glow began to spread out from the center, twisting like a cyclone, before opening into a black tunnel surrounded by a crackling purple and blue haze. Beside him, Belle gasped and clasped his hand tightly, he could feel her slight tremble.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her eyes wide. Rumple bit back a grin.

“Wonderland.”

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Jumping into the portal had tickled Belle’s stomach. Tumbling, seemingly out of control for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably only thirty seconds or so, was very disorienting. They’d landed in a circular room full of doors - some fancy, some plain, some garishly ornate.

Jefferson ushered them to what appeared to be a plainish, traditional post and lintel type door frame made of dark, polished wood. There was no door in the frame, but rather a bright looking glass edged in an ornate gilt frame. 

“Right this way, Dark One. My Lady.” Jefferson gestured to the glass. “Step on through. Remember the same number that pass through the portal must return the same way. Three step through, three must return.”

“Yes, yes.” Rumple answered impatiently. He pressed his hand to the glass, and to Belle’s astonishment, it rippled like water as Rumple’s hand broke the plane. “Shall we, my dear?”

As they stepped through, Belle felt that odd, ticklish feeling in her belly again. When they emerged, it was into bright sunshine. There were cobblestones beneath her feet, and a giant toadstool beside the road.

“Is that a caterpillar?” Belle blinked, gaping slightly. 

“Pay it no mind, sweetheart, for we have someplace to be.” Rumplestiltskin’s signature purple smoke swirled around them, and her navel was jerked yet again. When it cleared, her jaw dropped. They were standing in a tunnel of books.

It was a long hallway, with shelves that arched high overhead. Every available shelf was crammed with books piled haphazardly, this way and that, a mirrored floor gave the illusion that the entire hallway was a hollow tube lined with books. Belle walked the hallway spellbound, as though she were in a dream, the click of her heels echoing loudly as she drifted along, speechless. 

Emerging from the other end was no less fantastical. The store itself was unlike anything that Belle had ever seen. Skylights far above a massive, columned rotunda let in the bright sunlight of Wonderland, while all around massive shelves of rich, polished mahogany were arranged like the rays of the sun. There were overstuffed wingbacks in every cozy, darkened corner, begging for patrons to sit and leaf through any one of the endless array of volumes that filled every available inch of shelf and floor and table. Side tables held steaming pots of tea that never ran out, never stewed, and never went cold, alongside signs in small, eclectic frames that read “Drink Me” in perfectly lettered script. Equally prolific were the tea cakes and biscuits on silver trays engraved with the words, “Eat Me.”

Belle giggled and kept exploring..

A small, hand lettered sign hung in the window next to the front door:

_ I open the shop on most weekdays about 9:30 AM. perhaps 10AM. While occasionally I open the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1. Except on Tuesday. I tend to close about 3:30 PM, or earlier if something needs tending to. However, I might occasionally keep the shop open until 8 or 9 at night, you never know when you might need some night reading. On days that I am not in, the shop will remain closed. On weekends, I will open the shop during normal hours unless I am elsewhere. Bank Mondays will be treated in the usual fashion, with early closing on Wednesdays, or sometimes Fridays. (For Sundays see Tuesdays) _

Apparently, finding the shop open at all was rather fortuitous. Though, if she knew Rumple, there was most likely a deal of some sort involved. She turned to look for him, and was unsurprised to find him speaking animatedly to a soft, portly man in a long, beige jacket and tartan bow tie. The man’s blue eyes were nothing short of merry mischief when he glanced her way and gave her a cheeky, knowing smile, dipping his spiky blonde head just slightly before returning his attention to the Dark One.

Belle moved on, scanning the shelves and running her hands over volume after volume. She imagined that every book ever printed must be somewhere in this shop, though she could discern no particular order in their presentation. She passed by Jefferson, deep in soft conversation with another patron with whom he was sipping tea and nibbling on cakes. 

Warm breath on the back of her neck startled Belle as she ran her finger over the gilt rose on the spine of a volume entitled,  _ La Belle et la Bête,  _ written in a language that seemed strangely familiar to her, though she was certain she had never learned it. Next to it was a title she could read,  _ The Kama Sutra _ , but Belle gasped as she realized each letter was formed by two figures joined in poses of an unmistakable nature. 

“Well? What do you think?” Rumplestiltskin whispered in her ear, nuzzling it with his nose. He traced the letters with her, his fingers stroking over her own, his other arm slid around her waist, his hand splaying over her belly, and he pulled her back against him until he was pressed tight against her. She could feel the firm lines of him, and warmth radiated through her body as she realized they were in full view of anyone who might happen by. For a moment, as she stared at the gilt “A” depicting a woman on all fours while a man entered her from behind, she thought Rumple would slide his hand down to touch her beneath her skirts, but while she held her breath, he didn’t move. She slowly exhaled.

“It’s marvellous! I think every book ever written must be in here!” She exclaimed with a breathy chuckle.

Rumplestiltskin suddenly realized that his own library at the Dark Castle housed every volume in this shop and then some - well, except for the room he was about to show her. He berated himself for a fool that he hadn’t given her access already, but being a fool was nothing new to him. He resolved then and there to show her as soon as they returned home. Meanwhile, there was a reason they were here, and it was time to reveal the mystery.

“Hardly _ every _ book,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear. “Though Zira’s collection is impressive, I have seen better. But come, there  _ is _ something very special I do wish to show you.”

Belle shivered, his voice was full of wicked promise and she had no idea what to make of it, though she knew she very much liked it.

“What is it?”

“Why, a mystery to be uncovered, sweetheart,” he answered, taking her by the hand and leading her through the shop. Belle walked with her head held high, her heels clicking on the polished floors. The eyes of the other patrons were on her, in her dusty blue dress that showed off more skin than she’d ever dared. Feeling the cool air of the shop on the top of her thigh with every step sent a tremor through her belly. Rumple only looked at her like she was a feast to be devoured, and that made her tremble even harder.

He led her down a short hallway which ended in a gold-tasseled curtain of rich, burgundy velvet. Rumplestiltskin pulled a cord and the curtains parted to reveal a wooden door, bound in iron and painted a deep, glossy red. It was guarded by a large padlock in the shape of a heart. Belle marvelled, why would there be a locked door behind a velvet curtain in a bookshop?

Rumple grinned as he opened his palm to reveal an iron key with a heart-shaped finial. He offered it to her, and Belle took it, fitting it in the lock of the mysterious door and feeling the tumblers give as she gave it a twist. The lock vanished in a haze of purple smoke and the door creaked open. She peered inside.

Her first impression was… red… and pink. Everything, from the ceiling to the wallpaper to the shag carpeting was decorated in some shade of red from the deepest burgundy of the ceiling to the pink and cream stripes of the jacquard wallcoverings. The lighting was dim, as though lit only by firelight, and indeed, there was a large hearth at one end of the room in which a fire blazed merrily. Before it lay a fluffy rug of thick, white fur that looked softer than anything she’d ever seen, and she had the sudden urge to kick off her shoes so she could curl her toes in it. Rhythmic music thumped in the background. Magically clear shelving like window-glass held not only books, but wands in every shape and size she could imagine. There was also clothing - not dresses or suits or gowns, but sleek leather corsets and lacy underthings that were clearly meant to be  _ seen _ . 

Heat bloomed across her cheeks and chest as she imagined donning any one of them for Rumple. The way his breath might quicken or his strange eyes might darken if he should happen upon her dusting the great hall wearing nothing but a leather corset that clearly wouldn’t cover her nipples and bloomers that clearly wouldn’t cover much of anything. Perhaps he would bend her over the large oak table and take her fast and rough, his passions stirred to boiling by her bold display. Or maybe he would lead her to the rug by the fire and lay her down and spend hours worshipping her body. She immediately decided that finding out would be well worth any feelings of self-conscious embarrassment she might feel at wandering the Dark Castle so exposed.

Belle could feel Rumple’s eyes on her as she wandered the room and examined the strange offerings. It was certainly the strangest bookshop she’d ever been in. And there were books, to be sure. The first volume she began to leaf through contained a collection of detailed illustrations so realistic they were almost like looking through a window into the young couple’s bedchamber. Moisture began to pool between her thighs as she turned the pages to find the young, athletic couple engaged in acts of love that Belle had never even conceived of.

“Are you finding anything interesting, sweetheart?” Rumplestiltskin murmured against her neck, nipping gently at her shoulder as he watched her turn the pages. He felt her breath hitch as the next illustration revealed that another young couple had joined the first, and the new configurations involved more limbs and joinings than would seem practical. 

“Yes,” she breathed, and he could feel her plump backside press back against the growing bulge in his own leathers. The woman in the next painting was being entered by both men, while she lapped eagerly at the cunt of the second woman who had straddled her face. She looked back at him curiously, pointing to the way the woman straddled the first man while the second knelt behind. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Do you not?” He asked, and she shook her head. Rumplestiltskin slid his hands over her belly and up to cup her breasts. She felt the hard length of him press between her buttocks as he ground his hips against her.  _ Oh _ . She gasped as the realization made itself known, and Rumple giggled. “It can be intensely pleasurable for both parties if done properly.”

“But I had no idea…” Belle stammered. Her belly fluttered, though, thinking about how it might feel to be touched so... intimately. 

“Then let me give you a taste.” 

“Here? In the middle of the store? What if someone walked in on us?”

“Right here,” he assured her. “It is not unheard of. And I am the Dark One, after all. Do you think any will question me? Besides, we need to pick out a few… toys for you to play with when I must be away from you. I wouldn’t want my little maid to be lonely and bored with no way to achieve pleasure but her worn out silver hairbrush.”

The sudden realization that the array of variously sized and shaped implements on the shelves before her were not ‘wands’ in the magical, traditional sense made a snort of laughter bubble up and out. It also made that ache in her lower belly throb with promise.

“Show me,” she whispered.

Rumplestiltskin growled as he yanked down the front of her gown, exposing her breasts, and making her cry out sharply. He let his blackened nails scrape over her nipples, and she whimpered softly as he plucked and rolled her hardening peaks.

From a shelf nearby, he selected a slender wand a few inches long. It was clear glass with a series of gentle ridges running up the shaft, a small rounded bulb at one end, and a wide knob set with a bright blue, sparkling gem at the other. His hands wandered down, gathering up her skirts as they slipped underneath. The whisper of magic made her moan out loud as her underthings dissolved into smoke, leaving her completely bare beneath the layers of tulle.

His nails scraped up the skin of her thigh, leaving goose flesh in their wake, and raking gently through the thick nest of dark curls at the apex. His fingers spread her open, releasing the slippery fluid that had already begun to flow from her. Pressing himself against her back, he let the cool glass dip between her folds, rubbing it up and down to spread her moisture. 

Belle let her hips roll, the smooth head of the wand rubbing over her clit and making her moan, sliding back and forth until it found her entrance. He angled it until it slid easily inside her, and he worked it gently, allowing it to become coated with her slickness. The bulbous head of the wand felt divine inside her, rubbing against the perfect spot to allow her orgasm to build while Rumple pushed it in and out. She could feel her own juices coating her inner thighs, cooling against her skin.

With his other hand, Rumple threw her skirt up over her back, exposing her backside, and reached down to stroke her from behind. Belle braced herself on the nearest stanchion, hollowing her back, and pushed back against him. With his fingers, he opened her up, drawing her own wetness up between her cheeks until he found the sweet rosebud of her arse. Rumple’s fingers circled her puckered entrance, her nerves tingling with anticipation as he coated her with her own wetness, every new touch sending jolts of electric pleasure up her spine and making her shiver.

Belle keened with the first press of his slick finger as he began to work it just inside. Her body spasmed at the strange invasion, and she let out a feral moan.

“Relax, Belle, and let me in. I want to give you pleasure,” he whispered, catching at her ear with his lips and tugging. “Breathe and push back against me and let me open you up, and I will show you how good it can be.”

Belle nodded and followed his instruction, allowing his finger to slide in to the first knuckle. 

“Are you all right?” He murmured, working gently. When she nodded wordlessly, a second finger joined the first, and she felt the gentle sting of her muscles stretching to accommodate. “Does it feel good?” He asked.

“Yes!” 

She could barely comprehend this new reality. She, Lady Belle of the Marchlands, was standing in a public place with her breasts out, her cunt filled, and the Dark One’s fingers in her bum. She wanted to laugh out loud, it was so ridiculous, but at that moment Rumplestiltskin drew out the dripping wand from her cunt, and instead she gasped at the sudden emptiness.

The coolness of the smooth tip as it pressed against her back entrance made her moan. He worked it in, pressing gently and twisting slowly, until she felt it pop past the tight ring of muscle. It was slender, but she was so tight, and she felt every ridge and bump as he worked it in and it felt like nothing else she’d ever experienced. 

Rumplestiltskin conjured a small vial of oil, and he warmed it in his hands before drizzling it over the shaft of the wand. Soon, she was slick and hot, and the wand was slipping in and out rhythmically. Belle was keening in his arms as he fucked her tight hole, and to his sheer delight, she began to roll her hips, demanding even more of it. 

“Do you like me to fuck you like this, Belle?” He growled, grasping her hip with his free hand and sheathing his rigid cock in her dripping cunt in one smooth thrust. He could feel every ridge and bulge of the wand inside her and had to bite his own cheek hard to keep from coming at the new sensation.

Tapping the end of the wand with his fingernail set it buzzing, and Belle’s knees went weak as he began to thrust in earnest. Guttural moans ripped from her chest as she grabbed the stanchions for support and begged him in breathless gasps not to stop.

“Oh, gods, Rumple,” she pleaded, meeting him thrust for thrust, hollowing her spine and pressing back to take him deeper. “Fuck me harder. I’m so close, please... Oh, please…”

Reaching around, his fingers slid through her thick curls, finding her clit and rubbing alongside it until she began to tremble in his arms. Her muscles tensed, and only her grip on the stanchions was holding her up as the sensations washed over her. Her cunt and ass were filled, her body open and yielding to Rumple’s deep, rough thrusts, and the vibrations so deep within were enough to make her weep with pleasure.

Her body shook violently as she came, and the orgasm stretched on for what seemed like an hour as Rumple worked her through it. His hips rolling and thrusting as he filled her over and over again, his fingers keeping the perfect rhythm as she jerked and moaned in his arms.

He followed her, pulsing and spurting deep in her cunt, the vibrations of the wand in the space beside his cock drawing out his own orgasm to an almost painful degree. His muscles bunched and twitched as he spilled his hot seed into her. 

Belle ground back against him, her buttocks and the end of the wand digging into his belly, and he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses all along her neck and shoulder. His teeth sunk into the sensitive juncture, and Belle keened, reaching back to grip him by the hair. In the end, he used a little magic to stay rigid while Belle rode him to a second, less earth shattering aftershock.

“Did you like that, sweetheart?” He growled. “Being fucked in your pert little arse?”

“Yes!” She managed, her answer breathless and shaky. “I hope one day soon it will be you taking me there… like the painting. Your cock inside me, squirting deep and hot inside me.”

“Oh, yes, my dear. I will take you there if you desire it, and you will come for me while I’m buried to the hilt in that sweet, tight hole.” He stroked and stroked, petting his fingers through her sodden curls while he spoke and she quaked in his arms, still full of him.

When she finally stopped trembling, he let himself slip out of her, and she shivered at the emptiness. He gave the end of the wand another gentle tap, and this time it stopped vibrating. Rumple took a hold of the knob at the end and gave it a little twist, earning him a breathless giggle.

“Shall we leave this in while we shop for the rest of your presents?” Rumple asked, and Belle turned, twining her arms around his neck and nodding enthusiastically before drawing him down for a deep, sensual kiss. He had no doubt there would be a round two before their little shopping spree was over. Maybe three or four rounds, if Belle grabbing his ass while his tongue stroked against hers was any indication.

He let her skirt fall around her knees as they broke apart breathless, though he left her breasts exposed. 

“I get more presents?” Belle asked, seeming to get over her shyness, and gave him a coy smile as she stepped away from him, running her hand down the length of the shelf as she inspected more toys. It made him giggle wickedly to know she was still plugged under that pretty tulle skirt, and he could see it in her ginger steps. 

“Oh yes, indeed,” he agreed, his eyebrows lifting, as he selected a strange looking item. It was shaped like a shortened shepherd’s crook with a small rounded bulb at the end, but with a much wider curve and two short handles. “Perhaps I could show you how this works…”


End file.
